Doctor Doom down bad is honestly a whole mood. In this thing he is not the cool comic book villain planning galaxy brain strategies, he is basically a horny bastard who lost everything and now crawls back up by breaking girls one by one. You start small, like some sleazy trainer that somehow still thinks in monologues from Shakespeare, then bit by bit you are twisting minds, ruining heroes, and turning half the Marvel city into your personal sex zoo. The witch Ratri shows up, gives him this Dominium power that lets him push into people’s heads, and from there it is just corruption porn all the way down. You go from “please don’t touch me” to “yes master, more” with a few clicks and some dirty little scenes that feel like reading a fucked up comic scan you definitely should not have on your phone at work but you do anyway.

What really hit me is how the girls are not just random nobodies. It is all the ones I crushed on when I was younger and scrolling through fanart on DeviantArt like a creep. Susan Storm acting all proper at first, then doing anal in a cheap motel because Doom pushed just the right mental button. Black Widow trying to be stoic super spy while she is on her knees, gagging on his cock, pretending she still has control. Firestar going from bright hero to street-level whore, selling her body off because you nudged her into prostitution and then watched the gangbang through some camera like a full on voyeur. One playthrough I had Jessica Jones drunk, swearing at Doom while he has her hands tied, using her anyway, mixing that rough *** fantasy with this bitter, sad energy that honestly hit me way harder than I expected in a porn game. You flick between almost playful teasing, like a handjob under the table while the Fantastic Four are in the same room, to ugly stuff like blackmail, mind control, and using them as slaves, and the game never stops to ask if you are a good person. It just shrugs and says “you clicked it, bro.”

Sometimes the pacing is weird and the point and click stuff makes me feel like an idiot, hunting for the one pixel that actually progresses the scene while Doom is supposed to be this genius. One time I spent ages trying to trigger a Madame Hydra event and ended up stuck with Lucia von Bardas and some half-finished blowjob loop that made me want to throw my phone. The animations are janky in spots, yet then you hit a sequence with Silk stripping, tongue out, stroking him with her ass, and suddenly you forget every complaint. Delila and Mockingbird show up and I swear the game just kind of laughs at continuity, but whatever, they get naked, they get corrupted, they get used. There is this one voyeurism bit where you watch Mary Jane and Black Cat fool around while Doom just toys with them like dolls, then later you drag them into full swinging and they do it because you rewired them, not because they wanted it. If you are lonely and horny and a little broken, the whole thing feels like someone dipped your Marvel crushes in gasoline and lit a match. It is trashy, cruel, weirdly funny, and sometimes I hate myself while clicking, but I still keep going back, like Doom himself learning nothing at all.

Japan in this game feels like someone took a horny sci fi reddit thread, fed it into ChatGPT on a bad day, then handed it to a very pervy writer with a school uniform fetish and a grudge. You land there as this kinda average 19-year-old dude, supposed to be an exchange student, pretending you care about classes while your brain is just full of your crush Julie’s tits and that tight ass she keeps pretending she doesn’t notice you staring at. Of course she brings her cute friend Alice, who acts like a good girl but gives you those tiny side glances that say “choke me a little, please.” On top of that, there is this whole mystery about Julie’s missing sister and a company that makes hyper realistic sex dolls, but half the time I kept forgetting about the plot because the game keeps throwing you in situations where you are either groping, being teased, or trying not to cum in your pants in some school hallway. The tone jumps around like crazy: one moment you flirt shyly in a classroom, next you are slapping a doll’s ass raw and making her call you master while your friend is in the next room. That mix actually works better than it should. It feels messy and dirty, in a good way.

The whole “Love Dolls” company thing is the part that stuck with me. Those dolls are basically walking sex toys with soft skin, big tits, big asses, and eyes that look a bit too human when you tell them to open their mouth wider and they just obey without question. They are made to be used, to be trained, to be humiliated. You can press them against a wall, pull their hair, force their legs apart, make them kneel on a cold floor and clean your dick with their tongue while you stare down like they’re nothing. There is this one scene where you are still acting like the innocent foreign student on the outside but behind a locked door you are pushing a doll face down on a school desk, fingers digging into her hips, pounding her so hard the animation actually sells the impact. Her tits bounce, her ass jiggles, she moans like a broken toy, and you know very well you are not supposed to be doing this in a place with textbooks and chalkboards. That mix of “I shouldn’t” and “I really, really will” is where the game shines. It goes from gentle teasing and soft kisses with your crush to rough anal with a doll chained to a bed, and the game barely blinks. You get moments of romance, then suddenly you’re strapping a toy to a girl, making her ride it until she’s shaking, and the MC is just watching with this fucked up curiosity like “what else can I do to her?” It’s not subtle, it’s not classy, and it absolutely doesn’t pretend to be. Which is kind of perfect for what it is.

Truck-kun hits again and boom, you wake up broke in a trashy fantasy world, with a body that actually works and a bunch of gorgeous girls who legally count as your property. Not heroic party members, not “companions”. Slaves. The kind of setup old eroge hinted at but never really went all-in with. You’re the guy in charge, the male lead, the one who gets to fuck, punish, comfort, and “train” them, while also trying not to starve to death. It’s this weird mix of anime isekai gag and grimy brothel management, except instead of nameless clients and dull menus, you’re face to face with the same girls over and over, learning what makes them moan, what makes them cry, and sometimes both at the same time. The game doesn’t pretend you’re a saint either: you’re poor, you’re horny, you love big tits and big asses, and you’re not shy about filling every hole. Vaginal, anal, sucking you off under the table, POV shots of you emptying inside them till it drips out. Lots of creampies, like someone in the dev team grew up pausing old hentai VHS just to stare at the white mess.

What really got me was how it swings between romance and straight-up filth without warning. One scene you’re gently comforting a shy “trap” who looks better in a dress than most girls, trying to ease his insecurity while still grabbing his ass. Next moment you’re pushing a milf against the wall, her tits spilling out, face twisted in full ahegao while she begs for more. The girls feel like a mix of old-school hentai archetypes: clingy little sister type who really, really shouldn’t crawl into your bed but does it anyway, mature milf who pretends she’s above prostitution and then starts grinding on some old guy because you told her to, tall futa who is both your rival and your toy. And since the story is openly netorase, the MC is the rare degenerate who actually enjoys seeing “his” women fucked by other men. Not cheating, not humiliation, more like he sets up the scene, watches from the shadows or right up close, and jerks off while the girls moan someone else’s name, then he still finishes inside them after, marking them again. If that idea makes your stomach twist, this is not a game that will “convince” you. It just assumes you’re the kind of pervert who sees your slave getting railed by two guys and thinks, “Nice, now I don’t have to warm her up.”

There’s humor sprinkled between all the filth, the kind of dumb fantasy jokes that feel like some 90s otaku brain never updated: jokes about slimes, about guild quests, about “ancient evil” that keeps getting pushed aside because someone needs money for new underwear. Half the time the protagonist talks like an overconfident dilf in a doujin, half the time he’s a broke loser jerking off in a corner while his girl earns cash on her knees. Sometimes that contrast is hot, sometimes it’s just awkward, but that awkwardness is oddly nostalgic to me, like those old pc games where tone changed panel to panel. Scenes are animated enough that blowjobs and group sex feel messy, with bodies moving and faces reacting, instead of just still images. Watching a full harem pile-up, girls on top of girls, a futa pounding some poor slave while your POV is buried in milf ass in front, feels like catching a lost episode of Bible Black someone remade with modern tools and less shame. You’ll catch yourself thinking “this is too much”, then immediately clicking the next scene to see your favorite girl spread again for a stranger while you stand there, smiling like a proud owner.

FSS Lamashtu feels like somebody mashed up a cold war naval thriller with a filthy space brothel and then forgot which part was supposed to be serious. You’re the freshly minted captain of this “experimental cruiser” that is absolutely not built for exploration, unless you count exploring how many holes your crew can take in a single patrol. Officially it’s the proud weapon of the Alliance, last hope in a long-ass war. Unofficially it’s your floating fuck-lab, staffed with officers who look like they came out of a horny AI art generator after you typed “war crime but sexy” too many times. The ship layout screen is almost a character by itself: bridge, medbay, cargo, those little tucked-away compartments you quickly learn are perfect for “private disciplinary sessions.” You jump between menus pretending to care about fleet orders, but the only thing you actually remember is which corridor you cornered that technician in when she kept “accidentally” brushing her giant tits against you.

The story likes to pretend it’s about geopolitics and rebellion, and sometimes it even tricks you. You’ll get this long briefing about the Neo-Terran strategic line, convoy raids, morale of the Alliance, all that stuff. Then two clicks later, you’re watching a proud enemy pilot on her knees, mascara running, mouth full of cum while she tries to spit out her rank and serial number. The tone whiplash is almost funny. There’s a certain charm in how the game refuses to pick a lane: you capture prisoners, you break them in slowly or just slam straight into collar-and-chain slavery, you’re supposed to feel the “moral weight” of it, but the next scene has them begging for anal like they read the script ahead of time. The AI CG does that exaggerated wetness thing, where every hole looks like you dumped a bucket of lube on it, and every creampie is this ridiculous white flood that should qualify as a bio-weapon. Sometimes the faces twist into that extreme, over-the-top ahegao that doesn’t even look human anymore, more like a melted idol poster, and it somehow fits this world where war propaganda and porn have fused into one genre.

What sticks in my mind most is how physical the ship starts to feel. You’re not just choosing sex options, you’re shaping routines. That science officer who starts with stiff posture and carefully zipped uniform? A few “private evaluations” in your quarters, and suddenly she’s walking around with visible bite marks on her neck, trying not to react when you casually grope her in front of others. There’s a scene in the hangar where two captured enemy girls are supposed to be processed for interrogation, and you can decide if that means basic questions or “group demonstration of Alliance hospitality.” The way their bodies are posed, covered in semen from multiple angles, has that bukkake ritual vibe, everyone participating because the war needs “unity.” You get toy usage too, not just as accessories but as tools of control: a vibrator left inside during a formal strategy meeting, the slow dawning horror on your new slave’s face when she realizes the remote is in your pocket while admirals talk about casualties. The game never really resolves whether you’re a genius commander or just a sex-obsessed tyrant who got lucky with experimental hardware. At some point there’s a tender-ish lesbian moment tucked awkwardly between brutal scenes, two crew girls comforting each other after a mission, fingers exploring, tongues slow and hesitant, and for once you’re not in the frame at all. It feels almost like the game forgot its own premise for a second, then remembers, throws you back into forced deepthroat in a dark interrogation room, and moves on like nothing happened.